People sometimes indeed did say--they always
will--but what is talk? Mere breath. And reputation is marble, and iron,
and sometimes brass; and so, you see, talk has no chance. They did say
that Sir Lucius Grafton was about to enter into the Romish communion;
but then it turned out that it was only to get a divorce from his wife,
on the plea that she was a heretic.
The fact was, Mrs. Dallington Vere was a most successful woman, lucky in
everything, lucky even in her husband; for he died. He did not only die;
he left his whole fortune to his wife. Some said that his relations
were going to set aside the will, on the plea that it was written with a
crow-quill on pink paper; but this was false; it was only a codicil.
All eyes were on a very pretty woman, with fifteen thousand a year, and
only twenty-three. The Duke of Shropshire wished he were disembarrassed.
Such a player of ecarte might double her income. Lord Raff advanced,
trusting to his beard, and young Amadee de Rouerie mortgaged his
dressing-case, and came post from Paris; but in spite of his sky-blue
nether garments and his Hessians, he followed my Lord's example, and
re-crossed the water.
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